


Heartlines

by Emeli_Thorne



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jax has a son, No club, Sons Of Anarchy - Freeform, where is tara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:24:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4896280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeli_Thorne/pseuds/Emeli_Thorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SoA AU: All the journals had black leather covers, worn out from what he assumed were years of frequently being opened and closed. They all had that peculiar smell of old leather, mould, and his father’s cologne, the one he said he’d been using since he was a teenager because it reminded him of someone.</p><p>Picking up one of them, Jake opened it slowly and started reading...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh the river, oh the river, it’s running free And oh the joy, oh the joy it brings to me

The day was too hot to bear, with only light breeze that came up occasionally. The blazing sun was burning through the asphalt and people seemed to have hidden from the insufferable heat in their comfortable, air-conditioned homes.

Meanwhile, Jake was sifting through the numerous boxes in the garage, trying to find his favourite football jersey.

His father had it framed for him and it always hung in his room, on the wall opposite his bed. But when they were remodelling the house, he had to store all his things in cardboard boxes and put them away, along with all the other boxes from the kitchen, living room, and his father’s bedroom. By the time the works in the house had been done, the boxes somehow got mixed up, and now he had no idea which box contained which items.

Most of the things have already been returned to their rightful places within the house, but some stayed in the boxes after his grandma made sure his father didn’t return ‘the junk’ as she call it, back in just to clog the place again.

Jake was already exhausted, having spent a good portion of the morning opening the cardboard boxes only to close them with disappointment because there were just too many things in them and he was already getting anxious.

His back hurt from having to constantly move the boxes he’d already looked into and put them atop of one another to get to the ones he didn’t.

Piled among the stack of gigantic boxes was one much smaller. Jake couldn’t remember what it held or where it belonged to, since it had no label. He frowned in confusion, wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He pulled at his t-shirt collar a few times in an in vain effort to cool himself.

Taking of the sellotape, he opened the box slowly, curious as to what he would find in it.

The box contained the American flag, neatly folded next to a pile of what seemed to be old journals and a small metal box.

Jake assumed the flag was the one given to his grandmother after his grandfather John died. He used to see it hanging in his father’s room in the club, back when he was five or six. Since they moved into their current home, the flag disappeared and Jake always wondered what had happened to it. Guess he got his answer.

All the journals had black leather covers, worn out from what he assumed were years of frequently being opened and closed. They all had that peculiar smell of old leather, mould, and his father’s cologne, the one he said he’d been using since he was a teenager because it reminded him of someone. Jake had no idea of whom.

Picking up one of them, he opened it slowly, careful lest any of the pages were torn and fell out. The inscription on the first page said _Summer, 1994._ He sat on a lawn chair leafing through the pages, noticing the yellowish colour of the paper and the fading ink on it.

Stopping at one page, a paragraph caught his attention, and so he began to read, his eyes darting over the sentences.

 

_Today was the worst fucking day ever. First Gemma yelled at me for being late to pick up the stupid cake for Clay’s return from hospital and for not sleeping in my room._

_She goes on and on how my relationship with Tara won’t do my any good and that it will jeopardise my chances as a prospect. I hate how she always meddles in my business, especially between Tara and me. I keep telling her it’s not her fucking business, but it’s like the only fucking voice she ever hears is her own._

_We had a fight again and I swear I was about to tell her to go fuck herself and leave me be, but then Bobby came and I really didn’t want to continue arguing with her._

_After I stopped by the cake shop, I went back to the clubhouse only to find fucking Kyle drooling all over my girl._

_I had half a mind to throw the stupid cake in his face and beat the shit out of him. Tara was definitely uncomfortable; her lips were set in a strained smile as she tried to push the son of a bitch off of her, but he just wouldn’t move._

_I strode towards them, my hands already balled in fists, ready to smash his fucking head. The only thing that stopped me from actually doing so was Tara that managed to wiggle herself out of his grasp and hook her arms around my waist. I kept my eyes on Kyle as I circled my arms around her. I swear that little shit looked like he wanted to fight me, and oh, how I wish he had tried something._

_For the past month he’s been teasing Tara, trying to flirt with her like she was one of the shithead croweaters that hang around the clubhouse. He actually thinks his dick moves will work on her. Fucking idiot. I guess the mad look in my eyes convinced him to move along because he left us alone..._

He turned a few pages.

 

_Tara. Jesus, I swear she’s the only person that can calm me these days. It’s like every little thing just sets me off and I wish nothing more but to beat someone, something. I hate this whole situation. Mom is not speaking to her; she even forbade Tara to come to our house so we mostly crash at her place since her old man is almost never home._

_To be honest, I feel more at home when I’m with her, in that small bedroom of hers than in my own home. She grounds me._

_Whenever I feel like just giving up because the pain for Tommy and dad is just too much, she’s always there to pick me up and show me the way. She’s my light._

_Fuck, I sound like those sissies, but it’s true. I’ve never been happier than when I am with her. It’s like... It’s like one of my dreams._

The handwriting here became sloppy and almost unreadable that Jake had to strain his eyes to read it.

 

_I feel like I’m locked into that coffin with Tommy, only I’m alive and he’s dead. And I keep gasping for air, I keep trying to break free, but I can’t. I’m too weak and there’s no one to help me. There’s no one to get me out of there. I feel the earth swallowing me, pulling me further into its darkness._

_I shout, I yell, I pound against the lid with my fists as tears start to fall down but no one hears me, even though I can hear them._

_It’s like a constant buzz of voices in my head and I want to focus, I want them to hear me._

_There’s no one and I want to give up because I have no strength left to fight. And then I hear someone scratching at the lid from the outside, their hands hitting it as they try to... do what? And I realise that they are trying to dig me out._

_I shout, thanking God or whomever for sending that person. I hear their voice clearly. Unlike those other voices that are so distant and unrecognizable in the cacophony of all other voices, theirs is clear._

_It’s a soft voice of an angel who wants to save me and just when I think I’m dying, the lid is being opened and this huge ray of light appears before me. I close my eyes because I can’t look at them. Their light is so pure and I feel unworthy to look at them._

_But just then I feel small, delicate hands on mine as they try to pull me up. I get up, still unwilling to open my eyes lest they’ll leave me here, alone again._

_“Open your eyes, Jax,” they say and I realise it’s a woman’s voice._

_And God, it’s the most melodiful voice I’ve ever heard, one that makes the blood in my veins rush to every limb of my body, making it come alive and my heart pounds against my chest with such force I fear it’s gonna burst out of my chest. The voice is soothing, caressing me, enveloping me in its safety._

_I oblige and as I open my eyes slowly, I’m faced with her._

_Tara._

_She’s my angel, my saviour._

_The soft palm of her hand caresses my cheek as I look at her in wonder, lost in the sight of her. The long white dress she’s wearing flutters around her feet creating an illusion that she’s floating on air, her wavy brown hair cascading down her back as a silky scarf._

_The fear I felt just moments ago is replaced by joy, pure joy. It’s like her hands hold some kind of magic because I immediately feel at peace._

_I don’t even realise that I started crying until she leans closer and her lips brush against my cheek. She traces kisses down my face until she reaches my lips._

_Pausing, her eyes lock with mine and her hands intertwine with mine. Then her lips are on mine and I close my eyes, tasting the saltiness of my tears on her warm lips, and her. And it’s the best fucking taste ever._

_She tastes like happiness, hope, and... Love._

_Anyway, that is one of me recurring dreams, but Tara... her lips taste even better in reality. She’s the one that pulled me from the ledge, the one that saved me._

Jake gazed at the words written on the paper, his hands slightly shaking as he processed what he’d read. He felt tears pricking his eyes, the intensity of those sentences being too much for him.

He never knew this Tara. However, from what he read so far... His father seemed to have been head over heels in love with her.

Jake never heard Jax talk about Tara or any other woman in a romantic sense. He knew the story of his mom and him; Melissa was always honest with her son, especially when it came to her relationship with Jake’s father.

However, this? This was something people read in romance novels. Jake could hardly believe this was written by his father, and yet it was his name written on the first page of every journal, and his name mentioned alongside this Tara’s.

He took another journal and flicked through a few pages before something caught his eye. Frowning in concentration, all further search of his jersey forgotten, Jake started reading again.

 

_When I went to that bridge, I had a clear intention of ending my life._

_It was all too much for me: too much pain, too much guilt, too much thinking I could’ve done something to stop my brother’s death, to stop my dad from going on that bike and ending up in a ravine._

_It’s stupid to be thinking about it because Tommy was bound to die. It was the fucking family flaw that took him; one that can take me or mom any day now too._

_Every time I close my eyes I see his bike making that turn, toppling down, and the explosion that follows. I hear his screams as the fire starts to consume him, and I imagine his semi-charred body lying there. It’s crazy because I wasn’t there, I have no clue what went down exactly._

_Still, I think about it a lot and then I cry._

_Alone. That’s the only time I can cry. When I’m alone I know there are no eyes watching me, waiting for me to break down and show my weakness. Because, in this world, in this club life, you aren’t allowed to show weakness or you’re labelled a coward and laughed at._

_My mother feigns concern, thinking I don’t know that she’s giving me fake smiles and crap advice by day; that she feigns mourning dad’s death, but fucks Clay by night in the same bed she used to sleep with my father._

_I sat there for awhile watching the water, its currents giving me an odd sense of calm. Guess I wanted to give myself a chance to change my mind. But it was hard because I couldn’t erase those awful images that had somehow found a way to haunt me over and over again._

_So I just sat, smoking a cigarette and imagining Gemma scolding me because of it, saying how I’ll die if I continue smoking. I wanted to laugh at the craziness of the moment. Maybe slow and painful death by cancer would be better than what seemed as a quick death the filthy water below me might have provided._

_I thought of my friends, Opie and Donna. In this fucked up world they were the only ones I trusted completely. Yet I was unable to utter my feelings, my doubts, my fears to them. I felt like a coward for hiding my true feelings and instead pulling on this mask of indifference._

_And that was the first time I heard her voice. Well, her sobbing to be exact._

_I tossed the cigarette bud in the water and turned my head towards the sound._

_She was sitting not far from me, her arms wrapped around her body like she was trying to keep herself together. I swear I’ve never experienced something like this but... her sobbing and choked gasps awoke something in me. Her face was hidden by a curtain of her hair and my fingers itched to touch it._

_I got up and as I approached her, I noticed she was shaking. I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do. And yet there was something... this weird feeling in my gut that wouldn’t leave me alone. It pulled me towards her and I couldn’t look away._

_So I sat beside her and waited for her to look up. When she sensed my presence, she lifted her head and the look in her eyes made me want to cry. She looked just as defeated as I was; her eyes reflected the same ache that was in me, and again! There was that pull._

_I think she sensed it too because just as I reached my hand to clasp hers, she reached for mine. Some sort of understanding passed between us. Our eyes were locked on each other for a few moments as we held onto each other’s hands, assessing the other person._

_Then we both looked away at the same time and she leaned her head on my shoulder. The faint smell of vanilla enveloped my mind and it went blank._

_I thought of nothing else, no one else but her and I in that moment, on the bridge where moments ago I wanted to end my life._

_Hours passed and we just sat there in silence. There was no traffic on the bridge that day, oddly enough._

_At some point I took off my zip-up hoodie and wrapped it around her small frame, my arm coming around her shoulder to pull her closer. Her arm came around my waist as she nested her head on my chest._

_When the sun started setting she started laughing and I looked at her in confusion. She turned her head up towards me and said,_

_“It’s my first sunset. It’s my first sunset and I’m sitting on a bridge with a stranger.”_

_And my lips curled into a smile at the sight of her face adorned with dried tears. She was so beautiful. She is beautiful. But there was something in that moment, that place that made everything I ever believed in tumble down._

_“Hi. I’m Jax.”_

_When she smiled at me I felt those stupid butterflies Donna keeps talking about in my stomach. It was so genuine, unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my sixteen years of living on this Earth. It was warmer than the sun and so kind._

_“Hi, Jax. I’m Tara.”_

_“There, we’re not strangers anymore,” I said, at the same time feeling like we’ve never been stranger in the first place._

_From the moment I saw her my life changed. She saved me. She always saves me._

_That day I was supposed to end my life._

_Instead, that was the day I started living it._

_\---------_

Jake closed the journal, his cheeks wet with tears.

Who was this Tara? How come she meant so much to his father, yet he never once mentioned her? And his father wanted to kill himself?

Thoughts swarmed in his mind raising numerous questions. As stubborn and determined as he was, Jake did the first thing that came to his mind.

Wiping his tears, he sat up and gathered the journals. He packed them back into their box and left the garage. It was only when he was outside that he noticed it was already dark and that his father’s bike was parked on the driveway.

He closed the garage door and went into the house, not sure about what he was about to do, but somehow knowing he had to do it.

He had to know about this Tara and her relationship with Jax.


	2. I Know It’ll Have to Drown Me, Before I Can Breathe Easy

_This is surreal. This is surreal. This is surreal. It’s the sentence I repeat to myself every morning when I wake up next to her. Because, it is surreal. How can I, Jax Teller, be given this gift that is Tara?_

_When I woke up this morning, I looked down to find her nestled into my side, her arm wrapped around my waist, her head resting on my chest. I almost feared that the pounding of my heart might wake her, because there is no chance in hell I can stay immune to her, ever. Her warm breath tickled me and I knew, I knew there was no place I’d rather be than there with her._

_We’ve been sleeping in her bed for months now (just sleeping!), as for some inexplicable reason I just couldn’t bear to be away from her. I was drawn to her by day, drawn to her by night, drawn to her in reality and my dreams, unable to be without her._

_Fucked up, isn’t it? Frankly, I don’t care._

_At least with her I don’t feel lonely, there’s not cold feeling in my heart whenever I think of Tommy or my dad. She understands me in a way no one ever did. And she never pushes me to talk, she lets me open up to her on my own accord._

_She’s not like Gemma who pressures me to accept the inevitability of my destiny as the future president of fucking SAMCRO._

_She’s not like Clay who just waits for me to screw up so he could swoop in and save the day just to look good in Gemma’s eyes._

_She’s not like the girls that hang around the TM, flaunting their bodies like it’s some cheap merchandise anyone can just take and do with it as they please, having no respect for themselves whatsoever._

_She is simply Tara. Untamed, passionate, loving being that makes my existence on this planet bearable._

_...................................................._

Jake walked into the house with trepidation, uncertain whether or not to talk to his dad. The box containing journals was in his hands and he was acutely aware of their weight. Not the collective weight of the journals, but the weight of the words in them that were somehow drawing him into their world.

His father’s written words echoed in his mind: “ _She is simply Tara. Untamed, passionate, loving being that makes my existence on this planet bearable.”_

The words that made him all the more curious about this girl/woman.

Of course he wanted to know everything there was to know about the mysterious Tara. Those few pages he read left such an impact on him. How was it possible that a single person could leave such a mark on another?  

More importantly, how was it possible that it was his father the one affected so deeply? Somehow Jake couldn’t see Jax Teller swooning over a woman. It was always, always the other way around.

And still, the more he thought about it, the more he believed this was indeed possible. It was just a feeling, a strange thought and yet so believable. Not because he knew his father so well. Just the opposite, because he knew him so little, he realised.

He looked around the house, finally finding his father sitting at the kitchen table with his back to Jake. His shoulders were hunched and he seemed unalarmed by Jake’s coming into the house. He probably didn’t hear him come in.

The entire house was cloaked in a strange silence. Or was it strange because it was the first time Jake actually noticed it? These journals made him somehow more aware of his surroundings, and it struck him indeed how little he knew about his father and his life before they met.

Maybe that was the reason he was so interested in these journals. They provided him with a new image of his father, one that he was never aware existed.

He stood on the threshold, observing his dad, remembering his features that had been changing throughout the years.

Jax was in his late thirties now, yet his hair still bore that sandy blond colour, and his eyes were still as blue as they were the first time Jake met him. His posture was not as straight as it used to be, yet there was no one that could say that Jax Teller was anything but handsome. Jake rolled his eyes inadvertently as he remembered all the ways he heard women describe his father.

He was still a muscled guy, thought it wasn’t due to any kind of workout, but rather due to hard work in the local steel factory.

His mother always told him that he was the spitting image of his father when he was younger, a sentence now used repeatedly by his grandmother whenever Jax would allow her to visit.

Jake actually liked to be compared to his dad. True, they didn’t have that great of a start when they first met ten years ago. However, in spite of the rocky start, they were as thick as thieves now, especially because it was just the two of them.

Sadness threatened to overwhelm him at the memory of his mom so he pushed those feelings aside for now.

Realising that he was standing for too long and was probably looking stalker-ish, he coughed and moved to sit next to Jax.

Jax shook his head slightly, as if returning to reality after being lost in his head for awhile; Jake noticed the dreamy expression on his face and wondered what the cause of it could be.

His gaze fell on the box he was currently holding in his lap, his mind drifting back to the pages he’d read. Could it be that his father was reminiscing about his past, about Tara?

It occurred to him then that for as long as he could remember, his father bore that dreamy expression in his eyes whenever he thought he was alone or when he would get lost in his thoughts after a hard day at work.

“Hey, Jake. I thought you’re at Cameron’s.” Jax’s expression softened upon seeing his son, his lips stretching in a warm smile.

Jake gulped nervously. He so wanted to ask his father about his past, but feared what Jax might say. He was already feeling guilty for reading those few pages.

_What if Jax gets angry?_

“He went to his grandma’s for the weekend. I thought it was high time I finished tidying up my room. I was in the garage looking for my jersey.”

...

Jax lit a cigarette, then focused on his son. There was just something... He searched his son’s face and noticed the nervous look in his eyes. He followed his son’s gaze and his eyes widened in shock when he saw _that box._

“Jake, what are you doing with those?," his voice came out hoarse as he spoke, panic rising in his body.

It had been years, long, painful years since he last saw any of those leather covers that once provided him comfort. They were his confessor, a way for him to ease the burden of his conscience, to be honest as he rarely had been back then for fear he would be seen as feeble by his fellow club members and the parents from hell, Gemma and Clay.

His son’s posture stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. –“I... I found these in the garage while I was looking for my jersey. I had no idea what they were so I... I opened one and...”

“You’ve read them?”

...

There was a slight note of defeat in that one simple question that made Jake stop breathing for a second, trying to discern what his father must be feeling.

Anger, rage, disappointment?

And then he realised it was none of those feelings, but one he would never ever associate with his father: vulnerability.

Jax looked at him like Jake had cut him open, leaving bleeding wound all over his broken body.

“Just some pages! I had no idea what these were, I swear! I’m sorry, dad. Please don’t be mad at me,” Jake pleaded, eyes wide.

A single tear rolled down Jax’s cheek as he held out his hand. Jake was frozen for a second before he realised what Jax wanted: the journals. He handed him the box, though reluctantly.

Was it crazy that he grew so attached to some old journals in matter of hours?

Jax took one of the journals, and mirroring Jake from just a few hours ago, flipped through pages before he stopped at one and let himself be dragged into the past...

_Last night was the first time we made love because it was just that, making slow, sweet love with the girl I fell head over heels for. I will never forget the look on her face as our bodies became one for the first time. Her eyes bore so much trust in me, glowing with so much love it almost blinded me the sheer amount of happiness I saw painted across her features._

_It feels unbelievably freeing to be with her, to be Jax. Just Jax, a boy who fell in love with a girl he met on a bridge, mere minutes before he decided to end his own life._

_When we’re together, I’m not Jax Teller, the son of a deceased local MC’s president; I’m not Gemma Teller’s son, I’m not the heir to SAMCRO, my life is not tainted by my father’s poor decisions and my mother’s sins._

_I don’t think of my life outside those moments with her, moments painted with light, laughter, and most importantly, hope._

_She’s the reason I’m alive, she’s the reason I live. It’s because of her that I’m still able to resist the club’s advances and the pull I feel every time I hear the roar of their engines and see the bonds created among its members._

_I’m a part of the club, I’m well aware of that. The club’s in my blood; it’s like a poison that courses through my veins, threatening to destroy me completely if I surrender myself to it._

_It’s the drug I’m being offered since I was five, drawn to it by my very first motorcycle and the makeshift kutte Gemma made for me with Luanne’s help for my birthday._

_It was supposed to be a promise of family, brotherhood, unbreakable bonds that were to be created between us all._

_Over the years it turned into a death sentence, a slow, unexpected meeting with death I too glad accepted just month ago._

_Now..._

_If it weren’t  for Tara, if it hadn’t occurred to me to jump off that bridge... I think I’d be dead already, just because there was no way of escaping the club life._

_I cannot begin to express what I feel for her simply because I myself can’t understand it._

_My whole body’s on fire the moment her skin touches mine, my mind  is always filled with everything Tara-related. I think of her when I wake up, I think of her when I’m running errands for Clay, I think of her when I’m alone and the pressure of this life makes it  hard to breathe and I can see myself falling again. The mere thought of here saves me every time because I don’t think I can ever be without her._

_....................._

As Jax closed the journal, a whirlwind of emotions washed over him and he exhaled, making the only loud sound in the room since Jake pleaded him not to be angry with him.

He looked at his son and only then did he realise how scared the fifteen-year-old was in that moment.

“Jake,” he said slowly, “I’m not angry with you, son. I’m just... This was my past once. And reading these pages made me realise I’ve never gotten over her no matter how much I had tried.”

...

The honesty with which he spoke to his son resonated deep within Jake, that he wished he hadn’t found the damn things. Because not only did he open his father’s old wounds but he inadvertently seemed to have caused Jax even more pain by making him confront his old demons.

“I’m so sorry, dad. I just wanted to know about her,” was his excuse, though Jax visibly flinched at the mere mention of her.

“Tara,” his voice trembled. “Do you want me to tell you about me, me and her?”

Jake wasn’t sure how to answer. Part of him yelled ‘yes’ because the prospect of getting to know more about his father was, let’s face it, awesome.

However, at the same time he wanted to say ‘no’ if talking about it would only hurt Jax more.

So, he settle on the only answer he thought was right.

“Only if you want to tell me.”

Jax nodded, lighting another cigarette. His eyes drifted to the window as he finally spoke.

“I think you should know. It will... help you understand why we’re living in Dornet and not Charming, why I won’t let your grandma be alone with you or take you with her.”

Jake mentally prepared himself for, what he knew deep down would be a story that would change the way he perceived his father, his grandma, and his entire family.

Through the thin curtain of smoke rising from the cigarette, he heard his father’s voice, transporting him back into the past, back to 90s and Charming and the teenage years of Jax Teller.


	3. But in order to get to the heart I think sometimes you have to cut through

Jax wiped the tears off his face with a trembling hand, gathering up courage to begin the tale of his life, the dreams he had and which were destroyed, one by one, in a horrific chain of events, leaving his soul broken and his heart shattered to smithereens, barely surviving in this world with a great emptiness within him.

Jake watch his father with trepidation, gulping lump after lump, wondering the kind of story his father was about to tell him. He wasn't dumb; he'd always know his father's life was far from ideal, not just from Jax's almost hermit-like nature but also from his relation with his grandma, Gemma, and all the people who used to be a part of their life. Scarce talks with Gemma and no contact with his former brothers had been Jax's reality for the last nine years. A few friends he made once they moved to Dornet, rare nights out with them to the local pub, and that was it.

Being only vaguely aware of the cause for their moving, Jake never stopped wandering what it was that finally made his father cut all ties to his past life and family and retreat to a small town a whole day's ride from Charming. He was running away, that was evident. What from, though, was a mystery his father was finally willing to share with him.

Jax started his confession, his voice still raspy from the shock of seeing the diaries again and his long-unshed tears that finally found its way out.

"First of all, son, I want you to know the reason I haven't told you any of this before was because I didn't want my past to taint your future. I know that maybe I should have told you at least a part of the story about the MC and your grandparents, but I could never quite make myself do it. I didn't want you to hate me or look at me any differently because of what I used to be like, of what I used to do..." his voice trailed off as he bowed his head, as if struggling to gather up courage to continue.

Jake took his hand and making sure Jax was looking at him, he spoke with utter conviction, "Dad, nothing you tell me now will change the fact that I love you. You're my dad and we've been through so much since we've met... I won't let anything you tell me or anyone influence my opinion of you."

He saw his dad's eyes tear up again and for the umpteenth time that afternoon, Jake wondered just how much guilt and ache, maybe even regret, his father harboured in his heart and mind. What was that terrible, that horrible that made him act like this now?

Jax reached over and hugged his son, rustling his hair and Jake felt like a five-year-old kid again, standing in front of a man he just found out was his father. They shared a smile before Jax leaned back and his voice once more turned sombre. Jake focused on his words, hoping that by the end, he would have a better understanding of his father.

"You're such a good son, Jake. I can only ask of you to listen what I have to say and take note not to make my mistakes. I've only told you scarce details of my life, those related to your mother. As for the rest... My story doesn't being with Tara, not does it end with her. But she was, still is, a great part of my life I never could forget even if I wanted to. But I will get to her, eventually.

As you know, you had an uncle, Tommy. He died some eight months before I met Tara. I already told you about our family flaw." At this, Jake nodded and Jax continued. "Well, Tommy was always a sickly child. I remember him at only two years old, hooked on these machines, his scrawny body barely there anymore; his skin was almost transparent and what I recall so vividly is the blue of his veins and the hollowness of his eyes that regarded everyone with love and childish innocence, one that would never ripen into full understanding of life. "

Lost in his narration, Jax was unaware of the tears that started streaming down his face. Jake could barely contain not to cry too. His dad avoided telling him about his uncle for so many years, and for some reason, Jake almost wished he didn't start poking into the past. If this was only the beginning, Jake fear what the end might be like.

"Tommy never got to be a kid, never got to experience the joy of being a child and doing things other kids did, instead spending the following three years in and out of hospitals. Gemma and dad took him to all these specialists who would prescribe him tons of meds but none of them ever helped. We were getting desperate, Gemma being the only one who always kept at least an iota of hope, going to fortune-tellers, herbalists, basically frauds trying to find something that could save her son. "

Jake noticed it was getting increasingly difficult for Jax to talk, so he assumed the most painful part of the Tommy's story was coming. He braced himself for the impact of his father's words, even for the way in which Jax might react upon reliving the memory.

He wasn't wrong. Jax was choking with tears, memories that had been buried deep inside were seeking their way out, and as he spoke, Jax's hands began to shake again, yet he still reached for a cigarette.. Jake imagined it was to calm himself, have something to focus on other than what he was telling.

"And then one night... I was asleep when I heard Gemma scream and call for dad. When I got to Tommy's room dad was already on the phone, frantically calling 911 and mom was weeping and calling Tommy but he wouldn't answer.

A few hours later, he died," he stated matter-of-factly, thought Jake heard the hurt in his voice, letting him know Jax never got over his brother's death, inevitable as it was. Too concentrated on his father, Jake didn't notice he too was crying, warm tears falling down his cheeks. Both he and Jax sniffed as they wiped the tears away, but Jax still avoided any eye contact with Jake. Jake suspected it was because he was afraid he'd break down completely if he saw Jake, the mirror image of himself, reacting to his story like this.

Pain radiated off his father who looked crushed. Gone was the strong man who seemed to be able to shoulder the weight of the world. Instead, in his place was a fifteen-year-old boy who just lost his only sibling, the one person his life revolved around thitherto. Jake's heart ache for his father; he knew this was only the beginning of Jax's suffering and he dreaded to hear the rest.

"Even though doctors warned us... We knew he was going to die sooner or later, his body was giving out. We didn't even get to say goodbye to him. The thing is... I watched him perishing before my own eyes, day after day, putting on a brave face for mom, me... It's not what you would expect a five year old to do. Kids aren't suppose to be so bold and wise but by god he was. I could swear he knew he was to die soon though he kept on enduring for all of us," Jax breathed a sigh, looking bone-tired even though he was only now starting to get into the events that unfolded following Tommy's death, events that left him broken, dying on the inside.

"It didn't take long for my parents to start falling apart; their minds couldn't reconcile with the fact they would never see their son again. Dad was here and there, wandering god only knows where, he never could quite settle in one place after Tommy. He would disappear for weeks on end and never call, then appear out of the blue, his clothes torn and filthy, him reeking of alcohol. Then he would start fights with the guys from the club for no reason, and you know how they are... There's little they tolerate and John Teller, the president of SAMCRO acting the way he did, leaving his brothers behind then getting into brawls with them earned him no favours.

Gemma too... She was coping in a similar manner. Tommy was her favourite, I know, and his death broke her completely. She started sleeping in his room, stacking bottle after bottle at the foot of the bed while she cried herself to sleep clutching his pictures to her chest, surrounded by memories of him.

By the end, they just couldn't stand to be in the same room, my mom and dad. Dad moved out into the clubhouse but kept to his ways while the club was barely holding on under Piney's leadership."

Jake had a hard time wrapping his head around all that his father had just related to him. Jax watched his family break apart before his eyes. First his brother, then his parents' marriage, and his parents individually. Not only had he been witnessing that, but he had also been struggling on his own, Jake imagined, battling with himself and his emotions.

Had no one been concerned with that boy? How come it had been so easy for everyone to push him aside and bury themselves in their pain while ignoring a clearly distraught fifteen-year-old boy who was just becoming a man, who had already had to face and take on so much for such a young age?

"But, how did you feel?" Jake eventually asked, after some moments of silence in which Jax seemed lost in thought. Jake's question sobered him up, and he let out a pained laugh, raking a hand through his hair as if grounding himself.

"You know, funnily" – he started, even though both of them knew there was nothing funny abut this whole ordeal - "no one asked me that aside from Piney and Opie, and later Tara. I was a mess, Jake. Since the day Tommy was born we've all lived with this fear he would die any moment so our lives had been dedicated to him, his needs. When he... I think we all lost our direction, our purpose. None of us knew what we were supposed to do without Tommy since we were so used to planning our days around Tommy and his moods and states.

I started skipping school, smoking, and even drinking and occasionally smoking pot before Piney caught me and beat the shit out of me. Never thought of drinking afterwards. Truth be told, I didn't know how to handle it," he lifted his gaze towards his son and the anguish Jake saw in his eyes at that moment made him regret this day came, when he was faced with watching his father struggling like this. It was too much for his dad, he saw it clearly in the way Jax sort of withdrew into himself, hiding his face behind his hand as he covered it with his palm.

A moment later, Jake heard a loud intake of breath - discontinued, heavy. It took Jax a few moments to collect himself, moments which Jake used to gather courage to ask his dad a question that had been nagging at him since he read about it in Jax's journal.

"You..." he started, hesitantly, "You wrote you wanted to kil- commit suicide."

Jax nodded, yet again averting his gaze away from his son. Jake suspected he felt ashamed, though he himself knew there was nothing to be ashamed about. Pain, loneliness, the loss of a loved one... it had all piled up and Jax had no outlet. His parents hadn't been there to talk to him and ease his pain.

"Yeah. Some months after Tommy and my parents' estrangement my dad's best friend at the time, Clay, swooped in wanting to take advantage of the situation. I saw him more and more at our house, sitting with Gemma at our kitchen table or on the couch...I don't exactly know what it was they talked about. However, he did succeed in pulling her out of her addiction, getting her to sort herself out and start taking care of herself and the house. Not long afterwards, Clay became all she ever talked about –  _Clay this, Clay that_. It got to the point of her going around suggesting Clay should take the lead as the head of the club. Of course, she had no say in the matter, but rules never stopped Gemma," he remarked bitterly. "Anyway, Piney was furious with her, saying how could she go behind her husband's and his back to campaign for someone she well knew both of them were at odds with. In his many furious rantings, Piney told me he suspected something going on between Clay and Gemma long before Tommy died, only he could never say anything to my dad for fear of hurting his best friend."

Jake could practically feel on his own skin the hate emanating off Jax and his words regarding Clay. Obviously, his father hated his guts, even after all these years. And, as Jake wondered, there had to be something more about Clay that made Jax basically loathe the man, aside from his relationship with Jake's grandma. Even Piney, whom Jake remembered only vaguely as a kind man, seemed to not have liked him, based on his father's words and his reaction.

"Some months later," Jax continued after taking a few minutes to calm down his ire, „dad sent word, saying he was coming back because he had something important to speak to me about. He never got home. His body was found soon after the letter came, semi-charred, barely recognizable. The police claimed he must've been riding by night and encountered a car or a truck. They said he must've had trouble braking or wanted to avoid collision so he made a turn..."

What? What in the world? Why was life so cruel and unyielding to his dad? Had his brother's death and his parents' estrangement not been enough of a torture? His heart went out to his dad, a man who went though such terrible life events, yet still managed to carry on and was still fighting, every day.

"I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry you had to go through so much at such a young age. You don't have to go on if you can't. I understand," Jake's voice broke as he fidgeted in his seat. He wasn't sure he could take listening all this pain in his father's voice, watching him struggle with words, emotions, memories.

Jax shook his head. "I want to tell you. This, all of these... feelings, thoughts, regrets... They've all been piling up over the years. It's better I let them out lest they continue to destroy me from the inside."

"You're a brave man, dad."

"There's nothing brave about me or my actions, son. To think how I could have ended up... By now, I think you realise the state of mind I was in at the time."

There was another pause as Jax stood up and walked to the fridge. Taking out two bottles of water, he brought them over to the table and gave one to Jake who accepted it with a slight smile.

The coolness of the bottle was a welcomed sensation in his warm, sweaty hands. He put the bottle against his forehead and Jax did the same. Jax lit another cigarette, his third since he began his narration. They sat like that, in silence, Jax smoking his cigarette, his gaze set on something in the distance, and Jake nervously shaking his leg and taking a few gulps at a time.

He understood his dad needed time to compose himself, but his mind itched to know what happened next. However, he didn't want to rush him. When he felt ready, he knew, his dad would continue telling him about his family.

Some ten minutes later, after Jake had drunk the whole bottle of water and got himself another one, and after Jax drunk half of his bottle and smoked another cigarette, a sign of Jax's own anxiety, Jake noted, Jax's eyes found his and he began to speak again.

"Dad and I were close, you know. Tommy had Gemma, and I had my dad. In spite of my brother's state and how our lives were basically governed by his illness, dad always made sure to have time for me. He'd take me out for bike rides or to circus whenever they came to town, or to the park when I was younger. It used to be our favourite place we could hang out, just the two of us. For at least a couple of hours. No Tommy, no Gemma, no talk of heart defects, of medications and side effects...

And he would be such a different person when we were alone like that. He used to tell me all these wild stories from his youth, back when he was just starting the club with Piney. He'd tell me about his time in war, how it affected him, how it changed him.

He lost hope, he'd say. Hope in human kind, in world leaders because they weren't the ones putting their lives on the line, but common men who believed in what was being preached. He saw so much death, destruction, blood to last him a lifetime. All he wanted was some peace, a nice woman he could settle with and have a family... The club was something of a family to him before he met Gemma. He gave his heart and soul to her... to think she betrayed him with one of his brothers, I could never fathom that," Jax shook his head as if warding off the thought of his mother and stepfather, the man Jake realised by now most certainly had a hand in his father's destiny.

"Anyway, after their deaths and mom getting closer and closer with Clay, I felt like there was no place for me in this world. I had no one to talk to, no one who could understand what I had been feeling for so many months. There was this void in me and no matter what I did, it was just there, all-present. I think for awhile Gemma forgot I even existed since she was trapped in her own  _happy_  bubble."

There it was again: defeat. Jake had a hard time believing his father would ever be so desperate to actually commit suicide. And yet, all that he had heard so far convinced him that constant pain and suffering could drive a person to do the unthinkable just to save themselves. He didn't feel pity for his father, though. Jake felt helpless because he wished he could do something,  _anything,_  to fix his father's broken heart, to mend his scars and make him feel better, if only for a moment.

As if noticing his son's inner turmoil, Jax voiced some of the doubts and questions that had plagued him for years, "Don't get me wrong, I was glad at least she managed to fight it, but to think my own mother was so focused on everything else but me hurts me to this day. I used to think about this a lot, what it would have been like had Clay not appeared as her saviour. Would she have turned to me for help? Would she have fallen even further into depression? Instead, what happened, after I met Tara and we started dating, all that unfolded from that moment... I was worse than anything I could have imagined."

_To be continued..._


	4. But in order to get to the heart,  I think sometimes you'll have to cut through - PART TWO

 

As the sun started setting, Jake and his father moved from the kitchen into their little living room. Each took a seat on the old yet somehow still insanely comfortable couch Jax had bought from a co-worker of his who moved away some years ago. Jake found himself immersed completely into the world his father was painting with every word he spoke, eager to find out more about Jax's past.

After lighting yet another cigarette (Jake was making an effort not to count just how many his father had smoked since they started this little walk down the memory lane) and taking a few drags, Jax leaned back and proceeded with the story.

"After finding out about my father's death, the atmosphere in the club started to shift. Members were obviously restless, they needed a new leader. For the time my father was ... absent, Piney stepped in, being the Vice President and one of the founding members. Him being the president was supposed to be just a temporary situation, just until my dad sorted out his shit, you know? Dealt with the loss of his son, his marriage falling apart..." he paused as Jake nodded to indicate he was still listening attentively, that he understood where this part of the story was headed.

Jax nodded back and continued, "But his death meant a permanent solution was needed. Part of the MC wanted Piney to stay President, not only because of what I already told you about but also because he was a tough but righteous man. He allowed no screw-ups, no messing with the law. In a way, he reminded us all of my old man, no wonder they were friends," he let out a painful laugh, like a reminder of what it used to be like before all those tragedies struck his family, "They shared the same beliefs and experiences, having served together in Nam."

"And others probably wanted Clay, right? Someone who didn't mind getting his hands dirty form time to time?" Jake interrupted, staring to slowly realise how this club thing must have worked. There were obviously factions created, each with their own candidate.

Jax's answer confirmed his musing.

"Yeah, exactly. Others wanted someone else to step in, being no doubt under Clay's obdurate pressure. Clay, he was stubborn, hot-headed man with little regard for consequences his actions might have. Although Gemma denied it times and times when I confronted her about it, I know Clay used her to get the presidency of the club. She was in her darkest hour at the time, as I already told you, and he helped her get better. Though thankful, I think I sensed, even then, his help wasn't as unconditional and frank as he wanted us all to believe."

Jake felt anger rise inside of him. To think his grandfather, who was an honourable man, had been replaced with a sleazeball like Clay Morrow in his family and friends' lives, with this trash who seemed to have no regards to others, especially his supposed best friend's son, was deplorable. And to think this man also used his grandma in such a way just to get what he wanted... Jake was glad he had no recollection of him whatsoever; no memory to be tainted, thank god.

"He used Gemma to further his own plans. Having Gemma on his side, the deceased president's widow on his side, the victory was his. A couple of weeks later, after many deliberations, arguments, and drunk fistfights (which was unheard of while my father was still alive), Clay seized the Sons of Anarchy President's patch, effectively cementing his place in club's and our lives."

Jax's voice had been steady up to this point, when it acquired sad tone, no doubt because he was yet again recollecting the pain he felt upon Gemma's obvious neglect. Jake realised his father would most probably never recover from the scars her actions had left on him, try as he may.

"Now, since Tommy's death I had been a wreck. My dad dying pushed me even further into depression and reckless behaviour. Opie and Piney struggled to keep me alive, if you'll believe it. Gemma kind of forgot about me for awhile. Not that I blame her that much anymore, but at the time I really needed her, my mother, the most and she wasn't there for me. I was on the brink of dying so many times from alcohol poisoning, I even drove a car into a tree once while I was under the influence and she didn't even show up until I was about to be discharged."

Jake gasped, eyes wide. He was shell-shocked, gaze trained on his father as in turn, Jax nodded dejectedly as if to fully confirm the truthfulness of his statement.

"Grandma really never- she didn't visit you, like at all? I just can't imagine her being like that, dad. I mean, she's-she's so... Every time she comes around I see her trying so hard to please you, weighing her words carefully as not to insult you unintentionally or otherwise," Jake's words conveyed his bewilderment over his grandmother's actions. The woman his father was describing was as far from the person he knew as it was possible.

Jax stayed quiet a few minutes to, as Jake presumed, give him time to collect himself. Then, tentatively, he spoke again, almost in a whisper like he was afraid to further shatter the image his son had of his grandmother. The story has just begun, Jax thought to himself, knowing for certain that his son would look at Gemma in a whole different light even before he finished his confession.

"The day I decided to kill myself was actually just a few days short of the anniversary of Tommy's death. It all kind of came crushing down on me, you know? The full impact of everything that happened to us and all that was happening with Clay.

He started pressuring me into joining the club soon after he took reign over the MC, sending me on some odd assignments; I had no idea what they were actually at the time. Piney kept warning me to steer clear of the club since it was becoming something my father would never have approved of. Something illegal was what Piney was hinting at, though he never quite put it into words."

Jake was smart enough to read between the lines, just like his father. Drugs or arms, he thought, was what Clay was pushing through the club, destroying it and dividing from within, little by little. Or something much worse. He shuddered at the thought.

He didn't interrupt his father, though. Jax was already fully invested in the storytelling, his eyes bearing a distant hurt in them as he twiddled his thumbs.

"I didn't care about anything. The pain I felt was... overwhelming seems too mild an expression. It was... suffocating me, mind and body. Sometimes I couldn't sleep, my mind rewinding all our happy memories then flashing to all the gruesome details of my dad's death, Tommy's suffering, Gemma's spiralling into alcoholism and Clay... I wasn't able to rein in my emotions, my feelings were all over the place."

Then, as if by some miracle, Jax's lips spread into a timid smile which slowly became wider as he got to the point of the story involving Tara, his eyes becoming a little brighter, devoid of the shadows that had been inhabiting them since... well, since he first met his father. If ever was any doubts Tara was his father's shining star even after reading the diaries, they were all shattered in that moment. Even his voice acquired a joyful note.

Jake moved even closer, as he was afraid to miss a single word his father spoke about this woman. Every mentioning of her was too precious to let escape and get lost in the irritating noise of the AC.

"After Tara and I started dating, things started changing for me, little by little. I realised I shouldn't waste my life, that I should make something of myself, to make my dad proud. I told you how I had started skipping school?" Jake answered affirmatively and Jax continued, "Well, Tara pushed me to realise how stupid it was of me to do that to myself, my future. So, I went there, apologised to the principal and teachers for my behaviour, told 'em how I was gonna change, work harder. Thankfully, they understood what made me act the way I did and along with Tara, they helped me a lot to get back on track."

Jax chuckled painfully, eyes cast downwards, "You might not think this, but your old man is pretty smart, thought at the time I kind of liked to play stupid for no reason other than to piss every one of my teachers. And Gemma, was trying to get her damn attention. To no avail, of course.

But with Tara...man... She wouldn't let me downplay my abilities, she kept pushing me to do my best and I can't tell you how much that meant to me. To have someone in my corner for once. Someone who had nothing to do with my life before all that tragedy, someone who was able to look at me and not see the son of an ex president of the local MC. Someone who didn't force me to be something I'm not, who didn't have any expectations apart from wanting me to be who I am."

"She just saw you, and loved you as you were," Jake concluded sharing a smile with his father, along with growing admiration for the woman he knew nothing about until now.

"Yeah, she did," Jax confirmed and made a pause before returning the story's focus on the MC and his family's handling of his life.

"Naturally, after Piney being pushed to the margins of the club and realising what the MC had become, I didn't want to have anything to do with it. Clay, man... Clay didn't want to hear it. I was John Teller's boy, the club was in my blood and it was my duty to do what's best for club, he kept saying. And what was best for club was whatever Clay deemed to be so. Gemmy joined him in on it, filling my head with these - these ideas how one day the club was going to be mine but for now I needed to help Clay, how I needed to become a patched member as soon as possible, how I'm not to question Clay and all that shit."

He let out a long shaky sigh, bowing his head and running his hands through his blond hair. Jake regarded him with caution, afraid he would break down any moment now, the burden of years' long secrets and inner torment being too much for him. It took him some time to gather his wits again and return his gaze on his son, eyes filled with tears.

"Fuck, I couldn't take it, Jake. I swear, I tried and tried, but it got so fucking hard with each passing moment. I actually never told this to Tara or anyone, but it got so bad I was on the verge of contemplating suicide again. My relationship with Tara, having her as my support, was the one thread that kept me even remotely sane amidst the chaos. I started lashing out, refused to do Clay's bidding anymore. In return, Gemma started stalking and threatening Tara, telling her she was bad news for me, how she was changing her boy, making him soft, making him disregard his duties as a Teller.

Tara had the patience of an angel, I'll tell you that, but the wrath of the devil. She could hold her own. Gemma did freak her out a little with all that nonsense but Tara never let it show. She just ignored it all, telling me we needed to focus on each other."

Jake shook his head in disbelief for the umpteenth time that day, frowning. He dared to ask, "I never-Grandma did all that? I just can't understand. Tara was doing so much good for you, helping you get back on track, just like Clay did for her. She of all people should have understood your relationship and supported you!" he yelled, unable to prevent the feeling of shame and hatred arising as a result of this new information he never would have associated with the kind and gentle, almost bashful woman he had been calling grandma for the last ten years of his life.

His mom and later Jax raised him to be respectful, to never speak ill of anyone but right now he wanted nothing more but to call his grandma and scream into her face what a horrible person and mother she had been to her own son, her only son to make him see suicide as his only way out of the hell she had been putting him through when he was but a teenager.

Jax huffed an acerbic laugh, getting up to go to the kitchen and warm up their dinner. Time had passed with such rapidness both of them forgot to eat. This also provided them both an opportunity to cool down and think on their own about all that Jax had told up to that point.

When Jax reappeared in the living room and handed Jake his plate filled with yesterday's takeout, Jake was too lost in his own head to do anything but mechanically take the plate and set it on his knees. He was moving the fork left and right, not really eating.

"Jake," Jax started, startling Jake from his thoughts, "son, if this is too much for you, we can just drop it. It won't get any easier from now on, the story that is. And I'd hate for you to develop ill emotions towards anyone because of -"

Jake shook his head vigorously, "No dad! I want to hear everything, all that had happened, everything that led you, us, here. And it won't be your fault if I start harbouring disdain and hatred towards anyone. If anything, those people should be ashamed of how they treated you and Tara! I-I won't have any peace if we leave it here. I'll just keep wondering what went down, it'll consume me from the inside and I'll have no choice but to ask grand - Gemma - and I know now she would never tell me the truth, the real truth. She would probably serve me some bullshit tale from her perspective, make herself the victim and I don't want, don't need that. I trust you and you alone. And I want your story, not hers."

"Okay, okay" Jax repeated as if to brave himself. They ate their dinner in silence for the next half hour. Then, Jake stood up to take the plates to the sink and only then realised how stiff his legs had become due to hour-long sitting in the same position. He used the few minutes to calm himself, to ward off the horrific thoughts that started forming in his mind of what his grandma and her husband could have done to separate his dad and Tara 'cause he had no doubts the two of them had their hands in that. Sick freaks, he thought angrily.

When he got back, Jax had settled in his usual armchair by the window and Jake turned on the lights then curled himself on the couch once more, taking a deep breath before Jax continued the tale.

"All this back and forth with them went on for three years; we were basically fighting on daily basis and that shit, Jake... Gemma knows how to twist things, play with your head... I never knew her to be so malicious, unyielding, spitting venom every chance she got. The woman she became alongside Clay was not the same woman who raised me, who used tucked in me at night.

In the meantime, amidst all this shitstorm happening, Tara and I were doing great at school and started applying for colleges. We were thinking of moving as far away from Charming as possible, renting a place together.

Can you imagine? Jax Teller, a college boy?" the painful laugh that left his body sent chills down Jake's spine.

Another one of his father's dreams Gemma annihilated; he recognized the now tell-tale signs of the destruction and pain Gemma's actions left in their wake – the glassy expression, shadows of what could have been hiding behind his father's blue eyes, the strained tug of his lips, his trembling hands that seemed to want to grasp something, hold onto it lest it slipped through his calloused fingers.

Jax continued, not noticing Jake's anguished expression, "now, Tara's life hadn't been easy either. Her old man was a mean son of a bitch. After his wife walked out on him and their little girl, he became so bitter and cruel, taking his anger out on Tara all the time. She wouldn't tell me anything about her at first, you know? 'cause she wasn't used to trusting people.

It was only much later, after a couple of arguments that she finally admitted what'd been goin' on," his voice wavered before his eyes, brimming with tears, set on his son. "He would sometimes lash out, hit her just 'cause. I'd noticed the bruises, noticed she never wore anything but long-sleeved shirts. For the first few weeks after our meeting on the bridge and we started seeing each other as friends, she would come to our little hideout and just curl up to my side, like she wanted to melt into me."

Jax had once again averted his eyes to the side, not noticing Jake's tear-stained cheeks. His words hit Jake right in the heart and he wished there was something someone could have done back then to help them, to just be there for these two lost teenagers who seemed to have no one but each other in their grief and suffering. He thought how lucky he was for having his mom and later Jax to shield him from the world and its dangers, to help him up whenever he fell down and offer him kind words and gentle touch instead of punches and curses.

"It sounds so fucked up, I know but... I think she just wanted to escape too, lose herself to the world, disappear so no one would hurt her. She wouldn't talk much. Actually, neither of us did. We would just lie side by side and she would rest her hand over my heart. We'd lie, eyes closed and just... I don't know. Exist together, but detached from the world. I can't tell you the number of times we would fall asleep just like that and wake up in each other's arms. I know kids these days, and even back then, would see this as something to mock, laugh about. 'cause sharing feelings and shit, just enjoying other person's company without having to resort to asinine comments and behaviour is seen as being weak, a pussy, pardon my language.

What we had was something innocent, pure, unsullied by the realities of our lives. She was Tara and I was Jax and it was as simple as that; it was enough for us."

The final sentence served as the ultimate confirmation of Tara being his dad's one true love. It was silly to say it, but it was the truth. No one spoke about another person that way, about just existing with them unless everything else never existed for them in the first place besides their love for the other person.

Jake surprised himself by speaking up as a realisation dawned on him, "I've never heard of anyone speaking about their girlfriend the way you talk about Tara. It's only now I'm beginning to comprehend she was never just your girlfriend. She was the other half of you, someone who knew you inside and out. This existing... I don't think it was just that. You were alive with her because she was the part of your life that allowed you to dream, to think, to create this world where both of you were safe and did what you loved together. Reality was your enemy. That's why you wished so hard to escape it."

Jax grinned, shaking his head in amusement, "I-I guess I never thought of it that way but I guess you're right. She was the only part of my life that wasn't thrust upon me. She appeared one day, out of the blue, and became someone I couldn't imagine ever being without again."

"But she's no longer in your life," Jake stated matter-of-factly, curiosity getting the best of him.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves. Anyway, I never asked her about the bruises, I wanted her to tell me when she was ready. It made me fucking crazy when she finally told me and I won't lie, I lost it. I think all that rage because of the MC, Clay, and Gemma had built up to the point that it only took a drop for me to fly off the handle.

One day, when she didn't show up to meet me, I was doing my damnest to not think the worst. I kept saying, she's gonna show up, she's gonna show up. This'd never 'appened before so naturally my mind was all shambles. A few hours before that I had another fight with Gemma and I was a mess already. After about... two hours, I just couldn't wait any longer. I went over to her house (for the first time ever), looked around to see if there was anything strange. I had this, this gut-wrenching feeling I can't quite explain, but I knew something happened.

When I got to the front door and called out... the sound I heard damn near broke me, Jake. I got inside, followed her voice... she was calling out for me. My heart was in my throat, hands shaking, there was this crippling fear of what I might find as I approached her bedroom door...

She was sitting in a corner, knees drawn to her chest as she swayed back and forth. Crying, mumbling something under her breath, clutching her arm. I guess she heard me come in 'cause she look up and... her face was covered in bruises and cuts, some still bleeding. She was so scared, I could tell by the look in her eyes. I barely managed to whisper her name, still shocked, when she let out something bordering a scream and a sob and scrambled to get up. I rushed to her side and god, Jake, she ran into my arms knocking out my breath and held onto me so tightly. I didn't know what to do, so I just kept saying she's gonna be ok, that I'm was there now and that she's safe. As am telling you this, I swear to god I can still feel her shaking in my arms, sobbing, clutching at my shirt like she was afraid I was gonna leave her.

I'm gonna spear you other details, the gist of all being that her old man found out she was hanging out with me and beat the crap out of her. She had several fractured ribs, a broken arm, bruises all over her face and body. I took her months to recover, physically and mentally."

The silence after this stretched out, neither Jax nor Jake saying anything, too shaken by the images invoked by this part of the story. Jake knew his father had it worse – the images he was seeing were real memories of the events, surely more gruesome and painful than the ones created by mere retelling. Jax was reliving it.

"I never told her this either but, while she was in hospital, I went out and found him and beat him to a bloody pulp. Threatened him never to come near her again or next time I would kill him. Honestly, it was like something came over me, I had no control of my body, my fists. I kept seeing those bruises, the blood, her blood..."

"During her recovery, there were days she wouldn't talk at all, just sit quietly in a chair near the window with a blank look in her eyes. It frightened me to see her like that, wounded, broken. I knew how much her father meant to her, especially after her mother left, and to witness his decline into violent madness, to bear scars of his rage on her body and mind took a heavy toll on her.

That son of a bitch... after I took Tara to hospital and she spent a few days there, she was supposed to be discharged and had nowhere to go. She wouldn't go back to her house fearing he might be there, that he might hurt her again. She needn't have worried. Her dad had disappeared for awhile, and I suspected it had something to do with me. Well, I was sure of it. He quit his job, packed his things and left. Somehow, I managed to contact an aunt of hers who came to Charming and stayed with Tara for a few months until she recovered. It was her mother's sister and as it goes, her father was too resentful towards her entire family to allow them any sort of contact with his daughter. Up until then, aunt Ellie, as she liked to be called, hadn't seen Tara in a few years so you can imagine her excitement at the prospect of being close to her niece again. She took such a good care of Tara, helped her overcome her anxiety little by little. She had no children and used to say Tara was a godsend gift. I had no idea what kind of strings she had to pull, but somehow she got custody of Tara and moved permanently to live in Charming.

Ellie was very supportive of us, unlike my family, which is why I kind of started living there soon after Tara got out of hospital. I felt more at home there than at Gemma's. It was the atmosphere and the company, I realised. We joked all the time, watched movies together, Ellie would make us pancakes for breakfast and tell us stories of her rebellious youth.

Gemma hated it, of course. It was yet another bone of contention between us, that I liked Tara's aunt more than I liked her, my own mother. She started seeing Tara and Ellie as her competition, a threat to her. It was insane, but... The Gemma you know now is different, or at least seems different which is why it must be hard for you to believe this. Back then, she was as brutal as they come and I was slowly starting to realise how far she was willing to go just to keep me by her and club's side, consequences be damned."

"Dad," Jake interrupted him, "believe me, at this point, nothing you tell me about Gemma can shock me."

Jax just smiled sadly, and Jake knew this was nothing compared to what was to come. His dad proceeded as if there was no interruption, "Tara was such a good and kind person, Jake. I've never known anyone like her. She had this aura about herself that drew people to her. She was my best friend, aside from Opie and Donna. Tara, Opie and Donna never actually met, at least not officially. We never hung out together."

After seeing Jake's confused expression, he explained, "I just didn't want to mix those two parts of my life. Opie and Donna were one of my ties to the club and my family; Tara was the other part of my life, one that had nothing to do with all that drama and I never wanted to involve her in any of it."

Jake nodded in understanding.

"Tara had her own circle of friends and after we started going out officially, we only ever hung out with them. They were an unproblematic group and we always had fun together. They helped me feel, or pretend to feel normal. As someone whose family wasn't involved in dirty business. I was just another teenager with them with no particular responsibilities, without a burden of my father and brother's deaths on my conscience. Even for a few hours, they would help me forget about, you know, all that Gemma and Clay were trying to force on me.

She did come by the club once and it was enough for me to realise I should definitely keep those parts of my life as far apart as possible. You read about it, right? About the incident with Kyle, yeah? Well that son of a bitch sought every chance he got to rile me up, to provoke me just to cause another strife between Clay and me and he saw Tara as a way to achieve that. I got into too many fights with him 'cause he just wouldn't back away. The sick bastard, it was like he had a death wish, the way he provoked me."

Jake recalled the diary entry featuring this particular jackass and felt his blood boil. With every new truth his father revealed, Jake felt himself resent the people, the environment his father was forced to grow up in. Nothing seemed to have worked for either him or Tara, like the universe or some earthly force had been hell bent on killing the last remnants of hope these poor teenagers harboured.

"Anyway, as I said, this shit with Gemma lasted about three years. And then, one day, Tara just...disappeared. I went to her house 'cause we were supposed to go to movies. When I got there, there was no one in sight. Her aunt and her... they just up and left. Left no note, nothing."

His voice broke at the next statement, "to this day, I have no idea why they left Charming so abruptly or where they went."

 


End file.
